


Argos, the Faithful

by DostoevskyBrosK



Category: Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dogs, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Fairy Tale Elements, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:08:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27576970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DostoevskyBrosK/pseuds/DostoevskyBrosK
Summary: Darcy gets cursed (or is it blessed?) by an old druid woman, which turns him into a wolfhound. He must figure out how he can turn himself human again. To make things more complicated, he finds himself being cared for by the woman he loves. The same woman who rejected his proposal about two months before.
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy, Jane Bennet/Charles Bingley
Comments: 99
Kudos: 232





	1. Where I Have Run Already

**Author's Note:**

> This one might be a bit weird – but I really quite like how it turned out. I hope y’all do too! I find that I love strange stories, so I wanted to try one myself. I especially love the old fairy tales, like “Beauty and the Beast” and such, so I am drawing on some of those folk elements (going with the older versions). Also, I just love dogs so much. I have a dear heart named Pennyworth who keeps me the best of company (in fact, she is currently curled up next to me, warming my leg).  
> I am going to start a habit of updating every Sunday and Wednesday for my stories!  
> Note: This story is written by me (although obviously inspired by another's work). I do not want this posted anywhere else.   
> © All rights reserved.  
> No part of this publication (unless for personal use) may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, stored in a database and / or published in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.  
> Of course, I am looking to literature for inspiration for my titles. The first comes from Homer’s Odyssey, which I don’t always like, but that bit about his dog kills me every time. Here it is for your reading pleasure:  
> “As they were speaking, a dog that had been lying asleep raised his head and pricked up his ears. This was Argos, whom Odysseus had bred before setting out for Troy, but he had never had any enjoyment from him. In the old days he used to be taken out by the young men when they went hunting wild goats, or deer, or hares, but now that his master was gone he was lying neglected on the heaps of mule and cow dung that lay in front of the stable doors till the men should come and draw it away to manure the great close; and he was full of fleas. As soon as he saw Odysseus standing there, he dropped his ears and wagged his tail, but he could not get close up to his master. When Odysseus saw the dog on the other side of the yard, dashed a tear from his eyes without Eumaios seeing it, and said:  
> 'Eumaeus, what a noble dog that is over yonder on the manure heap: his build is splendid; is he as fine a fellow as he looks, or is he only one of those dogs that come begging about a table, and are kept merely for show?'  
> 'This dog,' answered Eumaios, 'belonged to him who has died in a far country. If he were what he was when Odysseus left for Troy, he would soon show you what he could do. There was not a wild beast in the forest that could get away from him when he was once on its tracks. But now he has fallen on evil times, for his master is dead and gone, and the women take no care of him. Servants never do their work when their master's hand is no longer over them, for Zeus takes half the goodness out of a man when he makes a slave of him.'  
> So saying he entered the well-built mansion and made straight for the riotous pretenders in the hall. But Argos passed into the darkness of death, now that he had fulfilled his destiny of faith and seen his master once more after twenty years.”  
> —Homer, Odyssey, Book 17, lines 290-327

Darcy’s mind was not fully on his surroundings as he rode Aeneas a bit roughly through his woods. But it seemed like it was not rough enough for the young man. He pushed Aeneas to go faster, to choose the more difficult paths, almost as in effort to exhaust himself. He finally reached the crest of a hill and allowed Aeneas to slow. He swung from the horse not bothering to tether him to a tree, knowing he would stay near him. He strayed to the edge of the cliff looking down onto a beautiful view with unseeing eyes. _What is wrong with me that it still eats at me so. She said she did not want you. She is allowed to think that. To say that. To reject me_.

He sighed and slid onto the ground, not caring where he sat and if he was staining his clothes with mud. _Of course, she is allowed to. But I feel so empty – Oh Elizabeth. Why could I not deserve you better? Was she right? Am I ruled by selfishness and pride? I fear she, as in all things, was quite accurate. Why else would the good people at Lambton be so astonished when I greeted them by name these past months? I have always known their names, but they must have been assured I did not. Do I treat all people as if they are beneath me?_ Darcy threw himself back onto the ground and let his gaze move to what was above him. He watched the clouds make their slow march across the sky. _Does it have to be so aggressively beautiful?_ He thought.

Closing his eyes, he let himself remember the things she said. The things he tried to keep locked inside, only to come out when he was completely alone. He did not want even his faithful servants to see him and wonder what was wrong. _It is not their burden to bear. And what if Mrs. Reynolds said something to Georgiana about my despondency. No. Better to keep it trapped inside when I am inside. But now . . . now I can let it out._ He let the words come back to him, all in a rush, and overwhelm him with their bite and anger. They felt like arrows, pricking at him, reopening the wounds that have never quite had a chance to heal. Darcy allowed the anguish to cover the whole of his face, with his eyes clenched tight. Everything rushed back over him again and again – he let go and lost himself in the spiral. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As Darcy made such an untypical display of himself, he could not have known that Old Bómall (as the village had named her. She only appeared a few times each year. Rumors suggested she spent her other months in her native region, for she seemed to have that bit of mystical old Ireland swirling around when one saw her. Young Timothy swore to anyone who would listen the past six months that she had done _something_ to his prize pig, which had been impossible to prove. Timothy did keep swearing that she had in fact _given_ it to him, whispering about naughty, evil men who make a habit of preying on young women. He could still hear her whispered, creaking tone “These naughty boys are so piglike they must become them.” It had frighted Timothy who for the past half year had been uncommonly good). She always loved when her journeys had her looping back through this area. She thought it seemed steeped in nature, in the ways of old, and really in goodness.

Bómall, who quite liked the village name, smiled down at Darcy, “This is just what I needed while I was taking in the Derbyshire air. Let us see how you prove yourself, young man. I sense a kind heart but perhaps over mired in expectation and a strange pride that seems driven by . . . Ah, yes, anxiety. I might have known. It will be interesting to see if you, young boy, let that rule you or if you are not overly bound by the bad.”

She moved off the path and worked her way down to the bottom of the hill. Knowing that Darcy must come this way when he wanted to seek his home, she settled in to wait until she could bring about the moment of crisis. She used the time she had to wait to send a sparking message across the miles. “Ah, you are waiting for this message, Darcy’s Heart. I think this will go well, depending on if he is, as I think he will be, good. I do love a test.” 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth could not know that she was mimicking Darcy’s experience. She too had left her house with a heavily burdened heart. She had aggressively marched up Oakham Mount. Pleased when she found it empty, Elizabeth settled herself against the tree and closed her eyes. _I do not understand him, even still. How could he say he loved me “ardently?” I cannot make sense of it. And I do not know how to talk to Jane about it. I do not want to bring up her own sorrow at Bingley being so easily manipulated. That odious man. He is odious, is he not?_

Sighing, she opened her eyes and let them wander on the yellow glow the sun suffused world held. _I do not find him odious. I do not want to admit it, but I can hardly say he is wrong. But his pride is abhorrent. Yet, I cannot say that I have not been pulled and directed by my own pride. He did insult me, and I did want to make him see himself. Maybe for the first time. Ugh._ Elizabeth picked up a small rock and threw it, watching it bounce a good distance away from her. _Yet, how could I have been so fooled by Wickham? Is it as simple as he flattered me and made me feel noticed, beautiful? That hardly seems to do me credit._

Elizabeth stood up again. _I feel so restless. As if there is something in the air._ Elizabeth seemed to feel a prick, right over her heart. She rubbed at it absently. Unconsciously moving closer to the tree, Elizabeth felt the prick again. This time it was even more aggressive. _A dog? Why do I feel like I need to watch out for a dog? And why do I feel like I must be open?_ The air crackled around her, the wind in the trees screamed, and the grass at her feet danced. All seem to say something. Elizabeth definitively shook her head. “Stop being silly.” She spoke aloud, feeling a little more confident when she did. “It is nothing.” She turned back towards home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy finally pushed himself up. He grabbed the reigns of Aeneas but decided to walk down the pathway rather than ride. It just seemed like the choice he had to make. When he got to the bottom of the hill, he was startled by the appearance of an old woman. He screamed, but he hoped it did not sound as high as he felt it had been.

“Madam.” He looked at her. She was old, but it was hard to tell how old. There was something in her eyes that seemed to speak of eons witnessed, yet there was something youthful about them as well. “Are you quite alright? How did you end up here?”

The old woman hobbled toward Darcy and feigned a trip. Darcy instinctively reached out for her, catching her arm right before she fell. _Is she alright? Is she weak from hunger? It would not be the first time we found a poor soul in these woods needing food._ He felt something right at the point where he touched the old woman. His hand seemed to ache a bit.

The old woman smiled, “Call me Bómall young one. Everyone around here does. You are the lord of the place, are you not? Surely you have not been so careless. When I touched you, I saw it. I can you know. I saw that heart of yours, you have given it away. But it has not been safe. Exposed to the air, you suffer for it, don’t you, young man?”

Darcy rubbed at his forehead, a dull ache presenting itself there. He felt his irritation spiking, which really seemed to be her purpose. “Please, Madam. I do not want to be rude. You look tired and worn. Let me escort you to the house, and we will make sure you are fed and have a place to sleep. Does that suit you?” Darcy offered his arm, trying to mask the pain that was becoming more and more pronounced with a smile _That probably looks more like a grimace. You are better than this. This poor old woman needs help and protection, not your ire just because you do not feel your best._

Bómall smiled, clearly charmed, that despite the physical pain the boy would attempt to be so genial. “You do not mind helping a woman so beneath your station, sir?”

Darcy did allow the pain to cross his face here, “Do not say that, Madam. What is a station? You know very well that you are just as valuable as me.” He caught the twinkle in her eye and her air of mystery. “Are you trying to catch me out and make me expose myself?”

Bómall laughed, “Ah, quite the clever thing then aren’t you.” She deigned to take his arm and found that she needed to use it quite a bit to cross over some of the rocky pathways to the house. She could not help how her heart felt warmed to the child. She whispered to Darcy a bit too quietly, “You are surprising me. The other one – the one you used to play with. He was more predictable.”

He clearly did not hear her because he was distracted by the surprising relief her touch seemed to bring his head. “You have the right of it, I am afraid, madam. I am not as good a man as I would like to be. I am trying to get better. To deserve – ” _her._

“Her, of course. I think that is my favorite mystery of life. The mystery of love. When it is working as it ought, it pulls both people into their best selves. Perhaps we might say it makes them more themselves than they were before knowing love.”

Darcy could not stop a smile at that. “A lovely thought, Madam.”

She patted his arm and allowed him to bring her to his home.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Unaccountably, all throughout dinner, Darcy could not stop thinking about what Elizabeth had said to him. _Usually I am much more able to lock it away_. He felt a need to do something. To accomplish it before he went to sleep.

He sat down at his desk and wrote out a long letter to Bingley. He confessed what he had done, what seemed beneath him, and what brought him shame. He tried to be as honest as he could. He left the letter to be collected in the usual place and felt a little peace. He went into a deep sleep – the kind that had alluded him for over three months. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Right at the witching hour, Bómall crept from the bed she had been given, in one of the nicer rooms, which had surprised her yet again. She had expected something from Darcy. But she got much more. He really did seem to care. He had a tenderness about him that she was both charmed and shocked by.

She quite easily found his room and entered it. She knew he would sleep hard tonight, and so did not worry about being too quiet. She spoke over him while she performed an elaborate dance. “Don’t you worry none, little boy. Bómall will help. I already did. That other child had been wicked. I now see that when we met, you three and I, twenty years ago, it was he who played that trick on me, wasn’t it? Wickham was a naughty man. I like him so much better as a pig. You shall not turn into a pig. No, I see a different, better path for you. It will be a reward for your kindness. Your graciousness. You cared for the widowed, the old and that will not go unnoticed. But it cannot just be given to you, sweet boy. Otherwise, you will not learn. And you do need to still learn. A journey it shall be.”

Bómall shifted into speaking a different language that had not been heard in this area for quite some time, if it ever had been spoken. She sprinkled a little mix of herbs over Darcy’s body and whispered to him of things unknown.

The dance was soon done, and Bómall moved back to her room, settling into the comfortable bed once again. She turned on her side, and right before she gave herself to sleep, she whispered into the darkness, “It is up to you two now. I think you will both handle things nicely.”

In his room, Darcy turned in his sleep, his body suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable. It was tight around him, constricting him. He woke with a scream of pain dying on his lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I really am addicted to poetry. There are some charming dog pomes that I now have an excuse to use. The title for this chapter comes from Thomas Hardy’s “A Popular Personage at Home”:  
> 'I live here: "Wessex" is my name:  
> I am a dog known rather well:  
> I guard the house but how that came  
> To be my whim I cannot tell.
> 
> 'With a leap and a heart elate I go  
> At the end of an hour's expectancy  
> To take a walk of a mile or so  
> With the folk I let live here with me.
> 
> 'Along the path, amid the grass  
> I sniff, and find out rarest smells  
> For rolling over as I pass  
> The open fields toward the dells.
> 
> 'No doubt I shall always cross this sill,  
> And turn the corner, and stand steady,  
> Gazing back for my Mistress till  
> She reaches where I have run already,
> 
> 'And that this meadow with its brook,  
> And bulrush, even as it appears  
> As I plunge by with hasty look,  
> Will stay the same a thousand years.'
> 
> Thus 'Wessex.' But a dubious ray  
> At times informs his steadfast eye,  
> Just for a trice, as though to say,  
> 'Yet, will this pass, and pass shall I?'


	2. Knows No Other Joy

The pain seemed to last a very long time. It felt as if all of his bones were breaking and rearranging themselves. _Am I going mad? What is happening to me?_ Darcy found that he could not even scream the pain was too shocking. Then, all the pain stopped most abruptly. Darcy was meaning to roll out of his bed, but he noticed that what should be a hand in front of him was instead a very furry paw. He sought to scramble to the mirror but got a bit tripped up in the swathes of his bedclothes, the sheets and the blankets. Finally, he managed to fight his way out of the tangle. Loping, which was the only word Darcy could think of to describe his experience, over to his standing mirror, Darcy was confronted with a strange sight.

A giant wolfhound, with dark curly fur covering the body, stood before him. Darcy methodically moved his head from side to side and up and down, watching the dog in the mirror do the same. _What. Is. Happening. To. Me?_ Darcy felt himself start to panic. _I cannot help Georgiana if I am dog. What am I thinking – I cannot do anything I normally would if I am a dog. This is insanity. Surely it is just a bad dream. What am I going to do?_ He looked into his own dark eyes. They stared back at him inquisitively. _I am in so much trouble._

He realized quite quickly that his first problem was going to be the household itself. The Darcys kept hunting dogs, which were much loved but hardly let inside. Moreover, Mrs. Reynolds secretly, or not so secretly but she did try, hated dogs. She tried to pass it off as unimportant, but there was something in her past that had left her with a nasty scar. So, Darcy knew it would be trouble if she were to stumble on him.

_Georgie is still in London, should I go to her there? Will that help me?_

Darcy’s thoughts were interrupted by a wind that blew through his room, opening his door. He startled, making ready to . . . _Hide under the bed_. When a voice seemed to be carried on the strange wind. “Leave this place! Seek your heart!” The voice screeched over him. Darcy’s body, which did seem to have something of a mind of its own, _The dog part of my body? Does that even make sense? Of course, it does not make sense. I am going daft_ , began to quake a little. He could not seem to stop the trembling that echoed throughout his extremities. “LEAVE NOW! SEEK YOUR HEART!” the voice sounded over him once again, and Darcy crept through his door. He could not really peak out inconspicuously, and he found himself relying on his strange dog instincts. He realized that he could smell unaccountably well, and followed the pathways his nose presented, easily avoiding the few servants bustling about.

He made it to a door, which blew open before him. He left his house and began sprinting across the clean pathway, seeking the shelter of the woods. It seemed as if he did not need to think. _The voice told me to seek my heart. What is my heart? Should I even be listening to a screaming voice that greeted me just after I have been turned into a dog. I AM A BLOODY DOG?!_ Darcy continued to run, following the path that seemed self-evident in front of him. _Well, the voice is right about one thing. I do know where my heart is. I am only playing the fool when I pretend I do not. I suppose I must make my way to Longbourn. But what then? I can hardly show up as a dog and what? Present myself to Elizabeth. She would not have me as a man. Nor do I deserve her._

Darcy shook himself and continued to press forward following a path his legs seemed to understand and know rather than his mind. At times, he would be on or near a road, but just as often he was lumbering through open fields or pockets of woods. He barely felt as if he was able to stop. Even when he tried to drink a little from the brooks he found, time seemed to press on him. There seemed to be a clear need for urgency. _Keep going. Keep going. Faster, faster_. He chanted to himself as he moved forward. He felt pangs of hunger, but easily ignored those.

What was harder to ignore were the ways he seemed to tear up his paws. They quickly were sore, and he did make time for him to curl up on some leaves and suck at his paws. _This hardly seems dignified. I suppose my poor paws do not have the proper callouses on them? Why am I treating this like it is all so normal? What am I going to do? Surely this is madness!_ He wanted to continue down this vein of thinking, but he continually felt the pricking of time _as if it follows me in that blasted winged chariot nonsense of Marvell’s_. He found some relief when he sucked his paws, but he was uncertain if it would really help. Each time he stopped, he quickly got up again and continued to follow the string that seemed to be pulling him to Hertfordshire. He was able to carve out a few times where he napped for a few hours, especially when it was too dark in the woods to travel well. Darcy was not sure about the passage of time as a dog, but he felt like a few days had passed at least. It seemed like the third night he was spending outside, trying to get some sleep.

Yet the uncomfortable press, encouraged him to keep going, which he would do. Until, finally, he pushed himself a bit too hard trying to get around a broken fence. He jumped over it easily enough, but something had splintered it. He landed on rather large piece of wood that was sharp at the point and went through his paw. He howled softly to himself at the pain, which was acute. Trying to lift the paw to his face, he saw the great piece of wood sticking out of it, but try as he might, Darcy could not shift it from his paw. It hurt terribly, so he bit at it and tried to work it out. But all, to no avail. If truth be told, Darcy wanted to merely sit and cry to himself. He felt he was at his breaking point. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth bolted awake in the night. _Something is not right_. She felt certain of that. But what was wrong? She tried to close her eyes and go back to sleep, but she felt near distracted. She had difficulty sleeping the past three nights at least and was not sure why. However, this feeling of unease that enveloped her tonight felt entirely singular. As if someone she loved was hurt. Sitting up, Elizabeth tried to pinpoint what was bothering her. A strange malaise settled on her, pushing her to languid frustration. _How curious._ She also seemed to feel as if she should prepare to welcome a dog _A dog? What would I do with a dog? Mama would never let one inside_. But the thought, once present, refused to be silenced. It seemed to pull at her from one direction to another.

She shifted some more, until Jane poked her a little. “Something bothering you, Elizabeth?”

“Sorry, Jane dear. I think I better just get dressed and try a walk.” Elizabeth whispered to her sister.

She followed her own words and found that the morning air did seem to help clarify a few things for her. _I can easily prepare a place in our old play haunt. I bet that could be dry and cozy for a dog. Maybe I can sneak one of our older blankets out there._ With that plan in mind, Elizabeth felt better about her morning. _And I suppose I better add a few bowls for water and food._ As she continued on her walk she tried to think if anything else was needed. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few hours later, Elizabeth sat with Jane working on some embroidery. _I wonder if I could get a blanket out of Kitty’s room? She does seem to purloin them._

Mrs. Bennet threw open the door, causing both Elizabeth and Jane to startle.

“Well, what do you think of this my girls? I have just had it from Hill who had it from Mrs. Burton in town who heard a rumor he was looking for a housekeeper again: Mr. Bingley is reopening Netherfield at last!” She bustled over to where both of them were sitting. “What do you think of that Jane? I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing. He has come back to you.”

Elizabeth anxiously looked at Jane, who was turning a bit pink at her mother’s prattling. _Being in London was hard on Jane, even if it has been several months. She put herself out there for him, and he was no where to be found. Of course, that is not really his fault. But could he really be coming back for Jane?_ Elizabeth decided to not let herself think on that just yet. It seemed more important to help protect Jane from her mother’s thoughts. She had continued talking about all the gifts Jane possessed, which would make her a fine wife of someone like Bingley.

“That is good news, Mama.” Elizabeth finally managed to break through Mrs. Bennet’s barrage of words. _What can I say to give Jane some time alone to process this information?_ “Jane, come with me to our room. We can look at our hats and see if any of them ought to be redone.”

“Nonsense girls! Mr. Bennet is giving us leave to go to Meryton and buy some new ribbons and at least one new hat for dear Jane.”

Elizabeth smothered a moan. _Oh, maybe it is just as well._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy’s journey had slowed tremendously since hurting his paw. He was forced to limp, and it did seem like each jolt shot new pain throughout his body. Needing rest more often, the trip dragged in front of him, until he came on a new flowing brook of water. It looked cool and refreshing, and his thirst was pronounced. He greedily drank up water, trying to temper himself at the end. _I do not want to make myself sick on top of all my problems right now._ He looked at his paw, which had crusted blood around it. _All of my paws are a mess_ , he sighed to himself. _I do not seem to make a very good dog_. His heart seemed sorry about that, but Darcy was not sure why he should care.

 _Maybe soaking my paws in the cool of the water could be good?_ He gingerly stepped in, the current was stronger than expected, but proved no trouble for the giant wolfhound. He stood strong and felt more like himself than he had in days. The coolness refreshed on a delicious level. Darcy felt a little pricking of joy at the water rushing around him and gave into the desire to roll around in it a bit. He covered himself with the mud from the bottom and triumphantly sprayed water everywhere, shaking himself dry of the excess. _That is more like it._

Darcy was not enjoying himself too much to not notice a small yipping sound. He moved closer to the noise, which seemed to be a call for help. _Something is in distress, which I really cannot allow._ Darcy found the slippery bottom of the brook a bit difficult to manage on just three paws, but he eventually got beyond a rise in the land. He caught sight of a small brownish puppy, who was continuously crying. Somehow the wee thing had managed to make it to a rock towards the center of the brook but could not seem to go further. _Ah, Lad, do you need help? Of course, he cannot hear me_. Darcy wanted to roll his eyes at himself. _This trip is really proving how daft I can be. Let’s see. Can I bark? Will I know what I am saying?_

Uncertain of his outcome, Darcy tried not to think too much about letting his dog mouth open and bark out a question, “Help? Need?”

“Help! Help! Please!” the smaller dog seemed to say back to him.

 _Curious._ He managed to hobble over to the wee pup and push his nose down onto the rock, trying to look less threatening to the very small creature. “Grab you. Help.”

The smaller dog stopped yelping, which Darcy took to mean he was on board with his rather dubious plan. He gently closed his jaws over the scruff of the puppy and found that he could very easily move him to the dry land beyond.

The puppy run around in circles, his joy clear to Darcy, which made him smile. _Huh. Even dogs can smile. Look at him_. “Safe.” Darcy barked.

“Thanks.” The puppy responded. He stopped his joyous circles and pushed into Darcy’s good front paw. _Alright. What an adorable thing._ Darcy’s heart melted as he looked at the gentle brown eyes of the small puppy.

“Journey.” He tried to communicate that he was in the middle of a journey and the puppy was welcome to join him. _Well we can talk, but not really as fully as I find I need. I am sure Bingley would be laughing his head off with that thought. I usually do so well with cryptic ways of communicating_.

Nevertheless, the puppy seemed to understand. He barked back a happy yawlp that seemed to just mean “Cool.” _Whatever that means_.

“Darcy.” Darcy barked at the puppy.

“What Darcy?”

“Me. I Darcy.”

“Hm. Me. I Pip.”

“Join Pip?”

“Darcy!”

 _I am not really sure I communicated what I wanted to yet again._ Darcy slowly moved forward. He could feel in whatever place understood where he was heading that he was very very close. _Thank the Lord. I am not sure how much longer I can make it on these literally bloody paws._

Pip bounded along next to Darcy’s slow lumbering moves, and they moved toward Longbourn.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It soon became clear that Darcy was not able to make it much further. His breathing was labored, all the exhaustion was catching up with him, and his paws were hurting to distraction. He looked at the cheerful Pip who seemed happy just to be with someone as he bounced, full of energy next to him. _I really need to be able to get myself there. To make sure I do seek my heart, but now I feel bound to look after wee Pip as well . . ._ Right in the middle of his thoughts Darcy’s body jerked to a stop and heavily hit the ground.

Pip yipped and moved to the body of the hulking wolfhound who had helped him earlier. He pushed at Darcy’s muzzle and whimpered. “Darcy?” the poor puppy barked. “Hurt?”

Pip waited, but Darcy did not respond. Pip ran in a circle around his fallen body, and then stopped suddenly. He seemed to smell something off to the left. He waited just a space and then went bounding off.

Darcy was completely insensible of the time, so he was unaware when Pip came prancing back escorted by a lady who was laughing at him all the while. “Why do you want me to come here? I already told you I have created a little place for you to stay, all warm and dry and well fed. And . . . Oh!” The woman moved quickly to the fallen dog and was pleased to find that he was breathing. “Your friend seems worn out by exhaustion. I doubt I can move him, but I think we passed Billy Stillinger on the way. He should have a small wagon we could use. Stay here, little scamp. I will return presently.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This title is for this chapter is from Emily Dickinson’s “A Little Dog that Wags His Tail”:  
> A little Dog that wags his tail  
> And knows no other joy  
> Of such a little Dog am I  
> Reminded by a Boy
> 
> Who gambols all the living Day  
> Without an earthly cause  
> Because he is a little Boy  
> I honestly suppose -
> 
> The Cat that in the Corner dwells  
> Her martial Day forgot  
> The Mouse but a Tradition now  
> Of her desireless Lot
> 
> Another class remind me  
> Who neither please nor play  
> But not to make a 'bit of noise'  
> Beseech each little Boy -


	3. That Loving Heart

Billy had indeed helped Elizabeth, following her with his wagon. They loaded the poor dog’s body onto the wagon, and Elizabeth had him take it to the place she set up. The scrappy dog who had originally found her on a walk and pestered her until she followed, now would not leave the side of the big hound. Elizabeth could not help but find it adorable. This little puppy so seemingly devoted to such a large breed.

Once they moved the hound down into his spot, she carefully ran inside, avoiding her mother and her sisters, and ended up taking her own quilt down. Hill gave her some cloth scraps, and she rushed back to where they had placed the wolfhound.

 _He is a beautiful dog. His fur is as black as night with a luscious silvery sheen to it._ Elizabeth tentatively stroked his fur and wound a few strands around her fingers. It was soft to the touch, much softer than Elizabeth had expected. _I hope when he wakes he knows we are here to help him_. She set about looking him over for wounds and cuts. He had lots of burrs in his coat, a few scrapes, but his paws had clearly the most damage. She knelt carefully and worked on his front paw with a dreadfully large piece of wood sticking out of it. _I need to make sure I get this out cleanly._ She gritted her teeth and worked determinedly. She managed to pull it out as well as she could and cleaned the gaping hole carefully.

“Poor dear. Looks like this paw will be out of commission for a while. Here, I will bind you up.” She put in a healing salve Hill swore by and wrapped the cloths around his wounded paw. _They are such large paws. Cover almost the entirety of my hands._ The smaller puppy pushed into the side of the great hound, curling up next to his friend. Elizabeth had always wanted a dog and was feeling a bit gleeful that she had found two, especially since she had gotten that strange itch to prepare for one.

She set about working through the rest of his paws. Pulling out some stinging nettles from in between the toes and smearing Hill’s healing lotion liberally over anywhere that looked raw or open, Elizabeth steadily moved through the whole of the dog’s body. _He is just the kind of dog I always pictured for myself. A great big hound that has the dash of wolf about him. You can see the whole history of the dog in this one, I think._ She rubbed his ears tenderly. “You are such a good boy. What made you travel so far to hurt your paws so? Do you not have a home?”

The dog opened his eyes, showing deep, ebony pools of understanding. Elizabeth smiled at the dog and tenderly moved her hand down to his neck.

“Do not worry brave dog. Here you have a home. You will be able to rest and heal. Shall I give you a name?”

The dog stared at her solemnly, and Elizabeth fancied that he nodded at her. _Oh dear. I am already the problem people make fun of. We do ascribe too human qualities to our animals. And yet_. . .

“Well, I shall call you, great wolfhound, Argos.” She turned to stroke the wee puppy snuggled under some of Argos’ fur. “You, I think, I will call Puck.”

For some reason, Elizabeth just could not understand, her heart felt settled. The anxiousness that had been nipping at her heels felt diminished. She stroked Argos carefully. _No wonder people are starting to keep dogs so much. Lord Byron said he prefers them over humans. I did not think I would find myself agreeing with him anytime soon_. Elizabeth smiled to herself. She started working on settling some more stuff around the small room, making sure it was cozy and that there was water. _I will need to see about some food rather soon I think. They both looked exhausted._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy woke, feeling a bit hazy. Almost like he was ensnared in a delightful dream. Elizabeth was there, whispering quiet words to him. Closing up his wound and caring for his torn paws. She called him “Argos,” which he decided he loved.

Pip snuggled up next to him and proclaimed, “New. Not Pip. Now Puck.”

Darcy had laughed, but could not stop a small prick of concern, like he should be worried but was not. _Is this my life now? Truthfully, I finally feel at peace. No press of time. No push or pull to keep going. Of course, I have found my heart. She smiles at me. The warmth in her eyes – it humbles me. I do not deserve it. If only she knew who I was. Would she be so caring, so loving?_ He gazed dejectedly down, thinking of the mistakes he had made with Elizabeth. _I mean I was not completely wrong about her family, was I?_ Darcy cocked his head a bit, _But maybe that is not really fair to hold over her. After all, I am deeply ashamed of Lady Catherine. I cannot believe some of the things she said to Elizabeth. She is quite the rudest woman . . . and my aunt._

He continued to contemplate for about one more second because then Puck was hurling his tiny body only Darcy’s side. Darcy laughed at the wee thing’s attempts. “What?” he barked at the pup.

“Playing.” Was the quick reply.

“Sleep.” Darcy rumbled back. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few weeks passed with Darcy’s paws mostly healing. Only his front paw with the gash in it continued to give him trouble. He found that he did not want to be patient with it and managed to hobble about on his three other legs quite well. This suited him just fine since he greatly wanted to be in Elizabeth’s presence.

“Hello, Argos, my dear.”

Darcy’s heart skipped a beat. _I know that is just the way she talks to dogs, Puck included, but still_. He smiled in his own heart, pleased with the endearment. She did favor Argos over Puck. She would take Argos on longer walks, although she made sure they were easy and gentle for him to not overstrain himself.

Today she leaned down and whispered to Darcy, “I do love Puck, but he is a bit energetic. I find I prefer your solid comforting presence.” She ran her hand over the top of his head while they walked, and Darcy basked in the pure joy of it. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth directed Argos on their walk. She was careful to avoid where she thought Bingley and Jane had wandered off to. She was supposed to be chaperoning them, she supposed. But it seemed rather silly for her to walk a few steps behind them, pretending she could not hear the secretes they wished to share. _All rather perverse really. I do not see much merit in a chaperon at all_.

“Argos, are you my chaperon?” She asked teasingly, diverting herself with her own humor. Argos did not seem to find it so funny. He stared back at her with his steady eyes. _They really make me think of_ his _eyes. That is silly, clearly, but he would stare with such dedication. I spoke too rashly with him, but then I always do. And he does need to change. Too pompous still._ “You know I am supposed to be chaperoning right now?”

Argos cocked his head to the side in the way most dogs do. _Charming_. Elizabeth laughed. “Do not look at me with reproach. Do not you find the whole notion of it strange? Someone not truly a party to what is happening having to be present to what – make sure they do not attack each other because they simply cannot hold back?”

Argos began choking, which worried Elizabeth. “Oh, love! Are you alright. Come, we better go back. I do not want you to overtax yourself.”

They moved back in the direction of the house, and Elizabeth felt wistful over what had occurred yesterday. _To think Jane is engaged_. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day, Darcy looked up excitedly as Elizabeth walked towards him and Puck. _It really is nice to be a dog and able to just follow wherever she goes. No one finds it odd. I guess I never realized how much I have in common with a dog. I did not really want to talk a great deal, I just want to be with the few people who please me, and I like to feel as if I am protecting her_. He walked towards her, and she leaned down to rub his head.

“Good morning, Argos. Are you ready for our walk today?”

He stared at her, hoping his eagerness shined through.

“I thought you would be. You must be careful to not walk on your front paw.”  
She leaned down and stroked his still bound paw. It was healing fairly well with no sign of infection, which was good. _I would do anything for you, Elizabeth._ Darcy sighed a little at himself. Since becoming a dog, he seemed to feel freer with his expressions of care and love. He knew it was ridiculous, but everything seemed less important now. He got to be near his Elizabeth, serving her and supporting her. _What about Georgie and the people who count on you?_ He tried to reproach himself. But with each passing day, it seemed harder and harder to really care. He enjoyed being a dog if he got to spend his time with Elizabeth.

She took him on a long, but easy, walk, keeping a hand buried in his coat the whole way. People waver at her, and she waved back, sparkling with joy and happiness.

“Argos, look at this beautiful day! Have you ever seen such divine weather?”

She looked down into his face and laughed a little. It seemed as if she was laughing at herself. Darcy tried to communicate that he agreed. She stopped them near a tree stump and sat down on it. Darcy sat next to her and rested his head next to her. She scooped up his head and pulled it onto her lap.

 _This is both the best and the worst part of being a dog_ , Darcy found. _I get to be so close to her, to touch her, but she does not quite know what she is doing._ He looked towards her face, trying to communicate the deep respect he felt for her. _Oh what does it matter?_ He decided to enjoy the warmth he felt emanating from Elizabeth’s body.

Elizabeth sighed, “Argos, I do find myself a bit melancholic. I do not think I ought to be, which just makes it worse. I scold myself. I am happy for Jane, of course I am. But a whisper winds its way around my heart. Will I always be alone?”

She buried her face in his fur, and Darcy felt himself repress a quiver of joy and sorrow. _Never, Elizabeth. You will never be alone with me._

“Such a good dog.” She spoke quietly into his fur. “I know I will always have you. Argos, the Faithful.”

Darcy fair preened with pleasure, the jolt of joy shivering through his entire body. _She thinks I am trustworthy now._ But a sliver of doubt stole some of his joy. _What if she knew the truth? Maybe she will never learn, and I will spend my life as a dog? If it were not for the sheer indecency of it all, I would not mind so much._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth hummed “Greensleeves” to herself and her dogs. _I love that I have_ dogs _now._ She smiled at the though. Puck had made himself home on her lap, curled up, and she was working on grooming Argos. _Quite the task, really._ “You are kind of a mess, Argos.” She teased the dog. _He always seems to understand what I am saying_. She rubbed his head. “Not that you are not worth it, because, of course, you are.”

She had a good discussion with her father earlier that day and had decided she would practice her French reading. She brought a text with her and set Puck and Argos to be her audience.

“Now, I am not very good with my French, which is why I am trying to work on pronunciation. Forgive me if I offend your delicate ears, dear friends.” Argos set his large head on her knee. She smiled at him.

She read for about an hour and then grew tired of it. Puck had wandered off to chase a sound he heard in the night, and Elizabeth sighed. _I am dreadfully tired. But I do not want to go in just yet._ She pulled at the quilt, which Argos quickly got off of. “No, do not move. It is alright. I think I will just cuddle with you for a few minutes before I go to bed. Does that suit you, Argos?” Elizabeth stroked the fur on his head down to his neck. He preened for her, which made her smile. “Such a good dog for me.”

Elizabeth had not meant to fall into a deep sleep, but she must have been more tired than she realized. She curled around the warmth of Argos, who seemed to go out of his way to make sure she was comfortable. He rearranged himself to give her warmth and a place to hold onto his fur. He nuzzled her softly, just before she slipped into her sleep. Responding to his nestle, Elizabeth gently kissed his face, and whispered, “Sleep well, Argos. I will see you . . .” She yawned and melted away from reality.

Argos settled in for his sleep as well, although it seemed to him that his face began to tingle right at the point where Elizabeth’s lips had touched. A warming, gentle sensation suffused his entire body from that one point. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This title comes from Matthew Arnold’s “Geist’s Grave”:  
> FOUR years!—and didst thou stay above  
> The ground, which hides thee now, but four?  
> And all that life, and all that love,  
> Were crowded, Geist! into no more? 
> 
> Only four years those winning ways,  
> Which make me for thy presence yearn,  
> Call’d us to pet thee or to praise,  
> Dear little friend! at every turn? 
> 
> That loving heart, that patient soul,  
> Had they indeed no longer span,  
> To run their course, and reach their goal,  
> And read their homily to man? 
> 
> That liquid, melancholy eye,  
> From whose pathetic, soul-fed springs  
> Seem’d urging the Virgilian cry, 1  
> The sense of tears in mortal things— 
> 
> That steadfast, mournful strain, consol’d  
> By spirits gloriously gay,  
> And temper of heroic mould—  
> What, was four years their whole short day? 
> 
> Yes, only four!—and not the course  
> Of all the centuries yet to come,  
> And not the infinite resource  
> Of Nature, with her countless sum 
> 
> Of figures, with her fulness vast  
> Of new creation evermore,  
> Can ever quite repeat the past,  
> Or just thy little self restore. 
> 
> Stern law of every mortal lot!  
> Which man, proud man, finds hard to bear,  
> And builds himself I know not what  
> Of second life I know not where. 
> 
> But thou, when struck thine hour to go,  
> On us, who stood despondent by,  
> A meek last glance of love didst throw,  
> And humbly lay thee down to die. 
> 
> Yet would we keep thee in our heart—  
> Would fix our favorite on the scene,  
> Nor let thee utterly depart  
> And be as if thou ne’er hadst been. 
> 
> And so there rise these lines of verse  
> On lips that rarely form them now;  
> While to each other we rehearse:  
> Such ways, such arts, such looks hadst thou! 
> 
> We stroke thy broad brown paws again,  
> We bid thee to thy vacant chair,  
> We greet thee by the window-pane,  
> We hear thy scuffle on the stair. 
> 
> We see the flaps of thy large ears  
> Quick rais’d to ask which way we go;  
> Crossing the frozen lake, appears  
> Thy small black figure on the snow! 
> 
> Nor to us only art thou dear  
> Who mourn thee in thine English home;  
> Thou hast thine absent master’s tear,  
> Dropp’d by the far Australian foam. 
> 
> Thy memory lasts both here and there,  
> And thou shalt live as long as we.  
> And after that—thou dost not care!  
> In us was all the world to thee. 
> 
> Yet, fondly zealous for thy fame,  
> Even to a date beyond our own  
> We strive to carry down thy name,  
> By mounded turf, and graven stone. 
> 
> We lay thee, close within our reach,  
> Here, where the grass is smooth and warm,  
> Between the holly and the beech,  
> Where oft we watch’d thy couchant form, 
> 
> Asleep, yet lending half an ear  
> To travellers on the Portsmouth road;—  
> There build we thee, O guardian dear,  
> Mark’d with a stone, thy last abode! 
> 
> Then some, who through this garden pass,  
> When we too, like thyself, are clay,  
> Shall see thy grave upon the grass,  
> And stop before the stone, and say: 
> 
> People who lived here long ago  
> Did by this stone, it seems, intend  
> To name for future times to know  
> The dachs-hound, Geist, their little friend.


	4. These Stones Arise

Elizabeth had not meant to fall asleep next to Argos, and yet, she had not gone out of her way to avoid it either. She woke from her deep sleep, feeling incredibly well rested and as if all were right with the world. Her body felt impossibly warm and heavy with sleep in that pleasant way that can happen. One of her sides was cooler than the other, _maybe it is sticking out of the quilt. No, something on her other side is keeping me warm_. So, she turned towards the warmth, burrowing in closer. _Huh. I guess I did fall asleep outside with Argos. What would Mama say, her daughter sleeping outside like a vagabond_. She allowed herself a small smile, not that troubled with her own wildness. _I have never enjoyed cuddling before Argos. I used to give Jane such a hard time with it. But this feels so delightful, exquisite really, and somehow decadent?_

Suddenly, Elizabeth felt what must be an arm tightening around her waist. _Arms?_ But she was not quite awake. And so, she could not really be bothered to care. _So, it is an arm?_ She pushed even further into what seemed to be a strong chest. _I feel so safe and protected here._ She sighed a little. _Argos always makes me feel this way. No one else ever really has. I do not think I ever want to get up. Not really_. She let herself slip back into slumber. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy attempted to orient himself. _Ah, must be sleeping_. He felt himself as man, and happily pulled his fantasy Elizabeth closer to him. She was lax in his arms and then turned into his warmth, burrowing into his chest. He stopped himself from laughing, not wanting to wake her. _She is a fantasy, Darcy._ He reprimanded himself, but he did not care. _Shush, you. I do not want to wake her up until she is ready._ He yawned a bit, happy in his dream. _I guess, I would rather be with her as a man_. He understood unexpectedly. That sobered him up sharply. And he opened his eyes. _I really cannot stay a dog. That would be terrible for many reasons. What kind of brother am I? What about Georgie? Oh, what am I going to do? I need to_. . . suddenly he realized he was blinking up into the ceiling of the child’s barn he had been sleeping in as Argos.

 _The world looks as it used to. I can see the colors again._ He sniffed into the air. Although he could smell the scent of lavender, he could not smell as keenly as he did yesterday. _Wait. Wait. WAIT!_ He turned to look at the beautiful, ineffable creature currently making a home in his arms. _In my arms. Look at her_. He let himself just luxuriate in the pure joy of being in Elizabeth’s presence while he was a man. _Why am I a man?_ But really, that thought did not seem overly important to him.

He just sank into the pleasure of it all. His Elizabeth pressing her face into his chest. _Into my chest? JUST MY CHEST. Hold on. Why is the skin of her face, her really silky, soft skin, pressed into my hairy chest?_ Darcy sat up, shocked. _Oh, my Lord, I AM NAKED next to a lady. What is wrong with me? Am I some kind of pervert?_

Darcy did not realize or have room in his muddled, troubled mind to think how his sitting up, knocked Elizabeth over and, naturally, woke her out of her tentative sleep. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth did, indeed, fully wake up as the body she had been so happily cuddled against sat up. She was moved from the chest to the back, narrowly missing following him up into his sitting position, which would have landed her in his lap. She did not realize this until much later in the morning, and when she did, well, Elizabeth has always been a woman quite diverted by such uncooperative mis-happenings.

Elizabeth opened her eyes to see what had roused her so firmly from her sleep. Blinking uncertainly, she was met with a wide expanse of creamy skin, speckled ever so slightly with freckles. Above the back was a delicious head of black curly hair. Before she fully realized their awkward position, she took some time to just enjoy them. _I would rather like to run my hands through that hair. What silly, boyish hair. It does make me think of Argos and the great pleasure I get from rubbing him . . . or rather, petting. Why would I think rubbing?_ After moving up, her eyes moved back down and rested at the crest of a very particular, and soon to bedevil her, swell of a man’s backside.

This view finally jarred Elizabeth out of her languor. She sat up and turned to the _NAKED?_ man next to her. She rapidly saw that it was, in fact, Mr. Darcy. _Curious finding becomes even more curious_. _And strangest of all, I feel almost as if this is the very right thing that should have happened. No, that makes no sense, surely. Yet, it feels right and correct. As if the order of the world has finally been found – at least for me._ His face looked to be in shock, and while Elizabeth found herself to be quite shocked as well, she quickly saw that there was only correct response to such a ridiculous situation: enjoyment, acceptance, and, perhaps, a bit of sass. 

“Mr. Darcy! What do you mean by coming into MY play barn, that has really been in the family for years and predates even Jane? Do you mean to desecrate it by your naked person? And what about me? I am a sensitive and delicate woman! How am I to recover. You sit here, next to me. Have we shared a bed? Have you been here all night? What will become of my reputation!” And while many of the things were true that she brought up, she was not really cross with him. _Cross with this ludicrous situation maybe. Where are my dogs? They surely would have alerted me to this man’s presence?_ Just as she was thinking this, Puck pranced into the room. He threw himself at Mr. Darcy who seemed to catch him without even being aware of what he was doing. He looked like he had the shock of his life.

Elizabeth just could not stop the teasing smile that came to her face. “Puck, I might have known you would betray me and leave my maiden honor for the dogs. But Argos! What were you doing?”

At the mention of her dog’s name, Darcy seemed to jolt out of whatever stupor had held him captive for the past several minutes.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Miss Elizabeth, that is to say, Miss Bennet . . . Er, Um. I am not really sure what is happening!” _Oh, my Lord. How did this happen? Why did this happen? How can I possibly explain this? ‘Oh, do not mind me, I used to be the dog you doted on the past month or so!’ She will kill me. And she will be right to. Elizabeth to be exposed to a man in such a grotesque way? And I did it to her!_

“Hmpf. I have my doubts. One thing is for sure, if we are caught, now I will have to marry you.”

It felt like a dagger to Darcy’s heart to hear her say that. “Elizabeth. No. I would never let that happen.” _Yet here I sit, naked save for the quilt that is doing the Lord’s work. How can I ever make this up to her? I could not bear it if she were_ forced _to marry me because of my own disgrace._

Darcy made an aborted move to stand up, but Elizabeth’s hands stayed him.

“I should not have said that, Mr. Darcy.”

“Fitzwilliam, please. I mean you have seen enough . . . Erm, to call me by my Christian name surely.”

“Fitzwilliam then. I am sorry. I was just teasing you. I do not think you somehow contrived to find me asleep outside and then appeared just to lose your own clothes in some convoluted plan to get me to marry you. Although, it would be rather impressive if you had done.”

“Never Miss Elizabeth. I could not bear it if you were forced into marriage, especially if it were me you were forced to marry.”

Elizabeth’s eyes seemed to soften at that. “But why does young Puck seem to know you? He would not stand for Bingley to hold him the other day?” Elizabeth gestured to where Darcy still cradled the wee puppy in between his large hands.

“Oh . . . well, it is really a simple explanation. Sort of. I am not really sure. You see, what happened is. Well, two months ago, at least I think it was. I have not been keeping the best track of time. Anyway, Um . . . ” _How can I explain this to her? I have no clue how to put this into words._ “I think he is just used to my smell.” He settled on somewhat uneasily. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth let out a full-throated laugh at that. “Accustomed to your smell, is he? Well, what follows is a rather natural question: How did he become used to your smell?”

Darcy set Puck down onto the quilt, and anxiously moved one of his hand through his tangled curls. The other one sought to gesture wordlessly at the air. _As if that explanation is going to help. Poor Mr. Darcy, or Fitzwilliam if he prefers, he always has been bad at explaining himself_. Then her eyes caught on the hand waving uselessly at the air. _It cannot be._ Elizabeth grabbed his hand, not thinking of the inappropriateness of holding a naked man’s hand, although perhaps it would be silly to quibble over such a small thing in any event seeing as she had spent the night in a naked man’s arms. Darcy allowed her to maneuver him anyway he wanted, and, indeed, had a sort of glazed glow about his eyes.

“Fitzwilliam, whatever did you do to your hand?” Studying the hand closer, she identified the cloths binding it. “But this is what I used to bind Argos’ paw just yesterday?” Her voice got quieter and finally trailed off at the end. 

Darcy looked at her with what looked to be fear and excitement. He breathed a deep breath. “That is what I was trying to say . . . or explain. Um, but I am not sure how it was possible? But I _was_ your Argos.”

Elizabeth shook her head, turning a bit red. _But if he was Argos then –_ “You were consciously present during the time you were Argos?”

He seemed to catch on with what she was thinking. “Do not let it distress you, Elizabeth. It is maybe the happiest I have ever been.” He looked shocked after he said that, and Elizabeth could not stop herself from giggling a little at him.

“Not as happy as now?” She arched her eyebrow and gleefully watched as Darcy turned bright red and ducked his head down.

“You would not happen to have any clothes for me, would you?” He shyly asked.

 _Aw. Look at him, so precious._ “Of course, sir. You do not think I would make you leave here with nothing. I have a plan for clothes for you. I will be right back.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy could not seem to make his mind worked as Elizabeth went gliding out of the door. _How? Why? What?_

He rubbed his eyes and looked at the state of himself. _I am a mess, and she saw me like this. I will have no chance with her now_.

Puck seemed to sense his sorrow and rubbed his head against Darcy’s unbandaged hand. It did bring a begrudging smile to Darcy’s face, but he was far too distracted.

_I am sorry Elizabeth._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth quickly came back with the shirt, great coat, and trousers she had fetched. _I hope these will work well enough to at least get him to Netherfield Park._ “Here you go, Fitzwilliam.” She said playfully. “Hurry and dress.” She closed the door again to allow him to get somewhat presentable, but kept talking, “I would like a chance to look over your hands, and your feet, before you go off. Luckily, Bingley is at his home, so you can borrow Betsy. But I think you need to leave soon so that no one can catch you. We are hidden enough here, so I am not overly worried about it.”

Darcy sheepishly opened the door, “I am done.”

She spun around and grinned at him. _He really looks like a little boy now, swallowed by the clothes of an overly fat forgotten relative._ The girls had used these to play dress-up years ago, and Elizabeth was so glad they had never thrown them out. “Hands.” She directed, which he immediately gave her.

She hmmed over them. “It looks like your one hand has healed up fine, but you will have scars on you. Fitzwilliam, it looks like you have actually had to use your hands.” She teased him, _But really it is a shame, poor Fitzwilliam. He must have come a far way . . ._ “Wait!” She interrupted herself. “You did not come all the way from Pemberley, did you?”

He blushed yet again, “I did – as silly as it sounds now.”

Elizabeth could not stop herself and grabbed his shoulder, “Oh Fitzwilliam. Your poor hands and feet. I cannot believe what you had to endure.”

“It was not anything much. I really think I deserved it. It . . . gave me time and space to realize some of the wrongs I have done.”

Elizabeth unbound his hand and tutted at him. “Darcy look at this!” She held his hand in front of him, causing him to smile at her antics, “No one deserved this, most especially not you. When you get to Bingley’s be sure you have someone there to really dress this properly.” She fixed him with a firm look.

“Of course, Miss Bennet.”

She gave him a little look out of the side of her eye, “Miss Bennet? You better call me Elizabeth as I have been calling you Fitzwilliam. You have been switching all over the place. Just call me Elizabeth.”

“Yes, Elizabeth.”

She beamed at him, which made him smile deeply in return. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from Byron’s “Epitaph for a Dog,” so rather like Arnold’s poem in some ways:
> 
> Near this Spot  
> are deposited the Remains of one  
> who possessed Beauty without Vanity,  
> Strength without Insolence,  
> Courage without Ferosity,  
> and all the virtues of Man without his Vices.  
> This praise, which would be unmeaning Flattery  
> if inscribed over human Ashes,  
> is but a just tribute to the Memory of  
> BOATSWAIN, a DOG,  
> who was born in Newfoundland May 1803  
> and died at Newstead Nov. 18th, 1808.
> 
> When some proud Son of Man returns to Earth,  
> Unknown to Glory but upheld by Birth,  
> The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of woe,  
> And storied urns record who rests below:  
> When all is done, upon the Tomb is seen  
> Not what he was, but what he should have been.  
> But the poor Dog, in life the firmest friend,  
> The first to welcome, foremost to defend,  
> Whose honest heart is still his Master's own,  
> Who labours, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,  
> Unhonour'd falls, unnotic'd all his worth,  
> Deny'd in heaven the Soul he held on earth:  
> While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,  
> And claims himself a sole exclusive heaven.  
> Oh man! thou feeble tenant of an hour,  
> Debas'd by slavery, or corrupt by power,  
> Who knows thee well, must quit thee with disgust,  
> Degraded mass of animated dust!  
> Thy love is lust, thy friendship all a cheat,  
> Thy tongue hypocrisy, thy heart deceit!  
> By nature vile, ennobled but by name,  
> Each kindred brute might bid thee blush for shame.  
> Ye! who behold perchance this simple urn,  
> Pass on, it honors none you wish to mourn.  
> To mark a friend's remains these stones arise;  
> I never knew but one—and here he lies.


	5. Faintly Uttered Speech

Darcy swung himself up the horse that looked like it had seen better days. He unconsciously patted the horse’s neck to put them both at ease. _This is going to be quite the day_ , he thought dubiously to himself. _At least I have clothes on now. Although as Elizabeth’s first response was to laugh at me, I am not sure how much of a boon that is._ He looked down into the sparkling eyes of his heart, and let himself stare a trifle too long. _I am going to miss serving her. That sounds pathetic I suppose, but I cannot help myself. I really was happiest as her dog._

“I will bring your horse back later today, Elizabeth.”

“I will await you with eagerness.” She smiled at him but raised her eyebrow.

 _Ah, this is what got me in such trouble at Rosings. I would take her at her word, but she really could just be teasing me. However, I cannot bring myself to dislike any form of her teasing. It is what made the catastrophe of this morning bearable after all_.

With a parting smile where Darcy tried to imbue all of his deep love for Elizabeth, he set the horse moving towards the clearest path to Netherfield.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth hoped that the horse would not be needed for work today. It would be quite troublesome if that is how they were finally caught out. _Although I suppose it would be rather funny trying to explain to everyone that I was ensconced away with the Mr. Darcy in our old play barn._ Elizabeth gave a full laugh as she cleaned up any sign of anyone or anything being there other than wee Puck. _I do not think anyone would believe it anyway. They all think I still hate the man. Which of course I do not. Right?_

Elizabeth allowed herself to sink down. Puck scrambling over to her side. She slowly stroked his fur and realized she missed Argos’ curly fur more. _I do not think I have hated him since I read his letter. Not really. And I certainly liked him as a dog_. She laughed at the ridiculousness of it. _I certainly liked him this morning, when I got to see an altogether different side of him. He really is as handsome as everyone says – in all places. In addition, he was so disarming with his boyish charm. Ah, he was so easy in my presence. Maybe that is it. But can I really blame all his abominable behavior on shyness? Well, maybe he was pompous or rather horrible, but I suppose people are allowed to change. He did come all the way here from Pemberley, and what a state he was in when I found him too. Hm, yes, I think he has changed or at least I knowing him better see him more accurately._

Elizabeth got up and met with Jane just before the house. “Lizzy wherever did you get to? I never saw you last night and you were up and gone by the time I woke up. Did you get any sleep at all?”

Elizabeth smiled at her sweet Jane, “I did! I think I got some of the best sleep I have ever had.”

Jane looked at her dubiously, “Your cheeks look healthy and your eyes are bright. I daresay you did get some good sleep. But, oh, Lizzy! Did you really sleep outside with your dogs?” Jane could not help laughing a little, charmed as always by her sister.

“Maybe, but let us keep that between ourselves.”

“Of course, sister. But perhaps you should go return our quilt. I cannot believe I let you use that for the dogs the past couple of months. Wait, why do you have it? Is everything alright between them?”

“Puck is still there being an adorable mess, but I am afraid Argos had to go.” Elizabeth said, trying to look sad, and realizing that she really was sorry to have Argos go. “Argos must have caught scent of his owner and went dashing off to indeed reveal a man searching everywhere for him.” Elizabeth fibbed a bit crossly. Cross to be lying to her sister and lying to herself, it seemed.

“Lizzy! I am sorry. I know how devoted you were to that dog. A fine dog. I am not surprised his master came looking for him even after all this time. . . It is funny though. I would have sworn that dog was more devoted to you than any other creature in the country.”

Elizabeth felt her good humor returning, “Well, maybe you are right at that.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy reached Netherfield Park’s stables and swung down from the horse. He was in the middle of giving the groom some instructions about the care of the poor animal who had to carry him here when Bingley came spring out of his house.

“Darcy, as I live and breathe!”

Darcy turned his way, trying to keep the coat close around him, incredibly conscious of his ridiculous state. “Bingley! I hope you do not mind that I have turned up at your house in such –”

Bingley could hardly let his friend think he was unwelcomed. “Not at all. Not at all. I assume you got my note to come and see me. I was not sure where to send it, so I am glad it has found you. Come, let us get you some tea or perhaps breakfast? I was just about to set off for Longbourn, but can be delayed an hour or two. I came as soon as I read your note, Darcy. I cannot tell you how pleased I was to get that. I was having a devil of a time of it.”

Darcy stopped his friend, “Bingley. I am dreadfully sorry for what I have done. I foolishly thought I knew better than you, but I can see that you know yourself well enough. I should have trusted in my friend.”

“All forgotten, Darcy! She accepted me! Did you know? Well, how could you have heard. I went after I got your letter, and she was pleased enough to see me. Then I somehow found the strength and just asked her flat out if she cared for me, after explaining in rather ridiculous terms how much she meant to me. She could not believe it apparently. My sisters had given her quite the wrong understanding. In fact, they would have had her believe that Miss Georgiana and myself!” Darcy could not stop himself from stiffening at that. “I know! Completely ridiculous, is it not.”

“Bingley, I am so happy for you. I think you and Jane will suit each other perfectly.”

“But Darcy, however did you get here so quickly? Did you get my note or just want to come back? I seem to recall your own eye getting caught here in the country.” Bingley settled against the couch after he directed someone to get them some food for Darcy, who really did look famished, not that he would ever want to disparage his friend, but look at the state of him, “And oh my! Darcy, what are you dressed as? Those are not your clothes. I have never seen you looking so out of fashion or so . . . grubby. Good lord! You do not have any boots on!”

Darcy laughed despite himself, which seemed to actually startle Bingley. “It is a very long story friend. One that I do not think makes entire sense. And I do wonder if you would have your housekeeper or someone look at my hand. I am afraid it got a little wounded in my adventures.”

“Come, come. What are friends for. You must tell me all of it!”

Darcy was not really inclined to share this story with anyone, but Bingley’s genial nature worked on him. _I remember when I first met him, and I was so happy not to have to manage everyone around me. He seemed to understand most of my moods and would allow me to act quite dreadfully. Maybe if I had trusted him more in the first place_. Darcy was suddenly hit with the deeply unpleasant memory of when he first saw Elizabeth. To his mind’s eye now, she looked enchanting, but to his eye then, just fresh from the near miss of Georgiana’s scandal and the betrayal by an old . . . friend. It had all been too much. _I do wish I could back in time and do it all again. But maybe it is not too late._

Darcy’s mind made up, “I will tell you all, if you promise not to question my sanity. You know me to be in complete control of myself. And truly, I can scarce believe it myself. I suppose I have to go back to my last visit with Dear Aunt Catherine.” 

“Oh, you are in trouble – I know how you hate going to Rosings.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“And that happened this morning?” Bingley was fair laughing at him, but Darcy found that he did not mind.

“Yes. If you can believe.”

“Somehow I find this the most unbelievable part. My friend, the honorable Mr. Darcy, sitting nude next to the woman he loves.”

“Do not say it like that!” Darcy moaned. “You make it sound so tawdry. It was not, really. She was so funny about it. I would have thought a maiden would have been scandalized by it. So horrified she would have run away.”

“Horrified? What are you hiding there, Darcy? Something horrific?”

Darcy Humpfed at him.

“I am teasing, Darcy. Of course, Miss Elizabeth would not react that way. She is far too sensible. I for one am glad I am going to have her for a sister. I need more sensible sisters in my life. “Alright, let us get you ready. I am sure you still have some clothes about the place or that we can find something to suit. I will see if I can find anything that works – you might take this opportunity to send notes to . . . well, you know who best. Certainly, send for your man. It seems like you will need him. And you will be standing up with me at my wedding no matter what.”

Darcy smiled at Bingley. _He really is too good and kind. To think if someone did to me with Elizabeth what I did to him with Jane . . ._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Darcy arrived at Longbourn feeling much more himself. He had a bath, fresh clothes that were his, at least not that long ago, and was wearing boots. He felt ready to take on the world, that is until they were shown in to the women of the house and Mrs. Bennet started barraging Bingley with questions and shunned him. _I suppose it is just as well. Although maybe Elizabeth would prefer we talk_. He sought out Elizabeth’s eyes. She was hiding her head from him a bit, but seemed to be smiling to herself.

Bingley had walked over and taken Jane’s hand. She glowed in response to seeing her fiancé. _How could I ever think her indifferent? Now that I see them together. Well, I was a fool_. _I wish Elizabeth would look at me. Maybe since she has had the time she is more scandalized by me. She cannot believe I was . . . so inappropriate this morning. Or maybe it is that she has realized all she told me when I was merely her companion. I would be that companion again, Elizabeth. I would not demand more of you then you would give_.

Before Darcy could get too carried away within his own mind, Bingley was suggesting they all go for a walk. “I know Darcy would like to see more of the area around here. We heard something of the beauty of Oakham mount, did we not?”

Darcy felt himself nodding. _It seems I am once again incapable of speech. No wonder they all thought me so ill tempered. I just cannot seem to form words._

Jane grabbed Elizabeth’s arm. “Yes, Lizzy knows that way well. She will no doubt be a credible guide for us. Kitty, I think I heard you mention this morning that you did not much feel like taking the air?”

“I did not, Jane! I would love to get out of the house.” Kitty tried to respond, but Mrs. Bennet seemed to understand that something was afoot.

She was not quite sure what, but she trusted her dear Jane, who had made such an unparalleled match, to know her business. “Quite right, Jane dear. I heard that too. Anyway, I need the three youngest at home with me. We have some hats to rework.”

Darcy found himself smiling in appreciation at the blatant display, _But perhaps that_ is _better than the way we all have to play such a ridiculous elaborate game. Either way, this does seem like it will give me a chance to talk to Elizabeth with a modicum of privacy. Just as Bingley promised._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elizabeth found herself beaming happily as they were halfway up the walk to Oakham Mount. Jane and Bingley had seemed determined to lose them, quite out matching their paces. _I wonder if Fitzwilliam told Bingley anything. He seemed as much in favor of doing this as Jane._ Elizabeth tried to surreptitiously glance at Darcy, but the state of his face made her stop altogether. “Fitzwilliam?” She asked cautiously.

Darcy turned to her as well and said, “You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged; but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever. I do not want to presume that just because of what happened . . . well, this morning that your feelings have changed. Upon reflection, it seems like you could have just been trying to make the best out of difficult situation.”

Elizabeth, feeling all the more than common awkwardness and anxiety of his situation, now forced herself to speak; and immediately, though not very fluently, gave him to understand that her sentiments had undergone so material a change since the period to which he alluded, as to make her receive with gratitude and pleasure his present assurances. The happiness which this reply produced was such as he had probably never felt before, and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do.

Elizabeth was quite charmed with his stuttering and the long silences. _I will have to try to get him to feel more comfortable expressing himself._ She thought a pace. “You always seemed most expressive as Argos.”

“What?” Darcy’s shock did not go unnoticed, and Elizabeth delightedly giggled at him.

“I am merely pointing out that you are quite capable of making your thoughts known with your eyes. You might try to speak them out loud now that you have the ability to.”

Darcy grinned at her grudgingly. “To think this is my other half, my heart. You will no doubt often bring up my failings as a human when we are married. I think you will wish me Argos much of the time.”

Elizabeth took Darcy’s arm in her own, “Nonsense. I would not really desire that. I simply would want to intimate that you were quite a good dog, while maybe as a man you can work on some of those qualities.”

Darcy could not seem to stop himself from loudly laughing, which Elizabeth felt achieved the very thing she wanted. _I will be careful to keep him laughing. He looks so handsome when he smiles and laughs_.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The couple reached the top of the mount and stopped to take in the great beauty, which only seemed greater now that it was shared between the two of them. Behind them, which neither noticed at first, materialized an old woman. She whistled for Pip to come. If someone were to take the time to gaze into her eyes, they might find that they lost the concept of time or that they finally understood what it means to be human. But no one would ever look that closely at a woman, Old Bómall found. It amused her how much the world missed by its own willful blindness.

Just then, the couple turned, seeking the bench under the tree that was a little further back. The young woman, who Bómall was seeing for the first time here, had a fae look about her, which endeared her to Bómall in a way nothing else could have done. “Oh, I am sorry, Madam. Do not let us impede your view. We were quite caught up in it, and missed that you were here.”

Bómall realized that this was one who would look in her eyes, but there would be no need to. She really was pleased with how this turned out. The man clearly did not remember her, which was just as well, but his eyes were shining and sang of his love. “Ah, no matter. Good will come from both of you, I warrant.” She smiled as they exchanged confused looks. “Let me leave you to your viewing.”

Bómall hobbled herself down the path. She whistled for Pip yet again, and saw his small body bounding towards her. She smiled, and spent her time waiting speaking quietly to her friend the tree as she moved away. “That is the man I was telling you about. Are not you impressed with me. I knew being a dog would serve him well. He had a heart to learn, unlike some men, which really only are good for turning into pigs.” The tree laughed along with her. “Shall I sing a blessing for them?” She inquired of her friend, whose branches danced along their agreement. Just as she was readying herself, Pip jumped to her. “Did you have a nice time, then?”

Pip nodded, “Ready to come back with me, Pip?”

He shook his head at that and barked, “Puck!”

“Oh, you ridiculous dog. You went and fell in love with them, did you?”

He panted up at her, unabashedly, which charmed Bómall despite herself. “Fine. You deserve a reward for your good work here with the two of them. I shall leave you with them. You will carry the blessing for a time so that all they touch will prosper.”

Puck beamed at that.

Half turning back to look at the top of the mountain, Bómall saw the pure love that radiated from the way the woman caressed the arm of the man. He was not even pretending to look at the view, just staring down at the companion of his life. Bómall smiled and began her quiet song, carried on the gentle breeze that would swirl around the couple, uniting them in safety, goodness, and happiness. Puck bounded off up to them, carrying more goodwill. The tree gave her the final idea, of course. They had been such good friends for such a long time, “Quite right, Brother Tree. They will live to bound together. Dying in the same hour as each other after living their full compliment of time. Neither too much nor too little. Just as it should be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t resist with wee Puck. I really love Howl’s Moving Castle, and I am sort of picturing the dog that is supposed to be spying on Howl and Sophie. That last scene where he is just like, got to stay with them. I love it.  
> This final chapter title is from one of the most famous dog poems by Elizabeth Barrett Browning: “To Flush, My Dog”  
> LOVING friend, the gift of one,  
> Who, her own true faith, hath run,  
> Through thy lower nature ;  
> Be my benediction said  
> With my hand upon thy head,  
> Gentle fellow-creature !
> 
> Like a lady's ringlets brown,  
> Flow thy silken ears adown  
> Either side demurely,  
> Of thy silver-suited breast  
> Shining out from all the rest  
> Of thy body purely.
> 
> Darkly brown thy body is,  
> Till the sunshine, striking this,  
> Alchemize its dulness, —  
> When the sleek curls manifold  
> Flash all over into gold,  
> With a burnished fulness.
> 
> Underneath my stroking hand,  
> Startled eyes of hazel bland  
> Kindling, growing larger, —  
> Up thou leapest with a spring,  
> Full of prank and curvetting,  
> Leaping like a charger.
> 
> Leap ! thy broad tail waves a light ;  
> Leap ! thy slender feet are bright,  
> Canopied in fringes.  
> Leap — those tasselled ears of thine  
> Flicker strangely, fair and fine,  
> Down their golden inches
> 
> Yet, my pretty sportive friend,  
> Little is 't to such an end  
> That I praise thy rareness !  
> Other dogs may be thy peers  
> Haply in these drooping ears,  
> And this glossy fairness.
> 
> But of thee it shall be said,  
> This dog watched beside a bed  
> Day and night unweary, —  
> Watched within a curtained room,  
> Where no sunbeam brake the gloom  
> Round the sick and dreary.
> 
> Roses, gathered for a vase,  
> In that chamber died apace,  
> Beam and breeze resigning —  
> This dog only, waited on,  
> Knowing that when light is gone,  
> Love remains for shining.
> 
> Other dogs in thymy dew  
> Tracked the hares and followed through  
> Sunny moor or meadow —  
> This dog only, crept and crept  
> Next a languid cheek that slept,  
> Sharing in the shadow.
> 
> Other dogs of loyal cheer  
> Bounded at the whistle clear,  
> Up the woodside hieing —  
> This dog only, watched in reach  
> Of a faintly uttered speech,  
> Or a louder sighing.
> 
> And if one or two quick tears  
> Dropped upon his glossy ears,  
> Or a sigh came double, —  
> Up he sprang in eager haste,  
> Fawning, fondling, breathing fast,  
> In a tender trouble.
> 
> And this dog was satisfied,  
> If a pale thin hand would glide,  
> Down his dewlaps sloping, —  
> Which he pushed his nose within,  
> After, — platforming his chin  
> On the palm left open.
> 
> This dog, if a friendly voice  
> Call him now to blyther choice  
> Than such chamber-keeping,  
> Come out ! ' praying from the door, —  
> Presseth backward as before,  
> Up against me leaping.
> 
> Therefore to this dog will I,  
> Tenderly not scornfully,  
> Render praise and favour !  
> With my hand upon his head,  
> Is my benediction said  
> Therefore, and for ever.
> 
> And because he loves me so,  
> Better than his kind will do  
> Often, man or woman,  
> Give I back more love again  
> Than dogs often take of men, —  
> Leaning from my Human.
> 
> Blessings on thee, dog of mine,  
> Pretty collars make thee fine,  
> Sugared milk make fat thee !  
> Pleasures wag on in thy tail —  
> Hands of gentle motion fail  
> Nevermore, to pat thee !
> 
> Downy pillow take thy head,  
> Silken coverlid bestead,  
> Sunshine help thy sleeping !  
> No fly 's buzzing wake thee up —  
> No man break thy purple cup,  
> Set for drinking deep in.
> 
> Whiskered cats arointed flee —  
> Sturdy stoppers keep from thee  
> Cologne distillations ;  
> Nuts lie in thy path for stones,  
> And thy feast-day macaroons  
> Turn to daily rations !
> 
> Mock I thee, in wishing weal ? —  
> Tears are in my eyes to feel  
> Thou art made so straightly,  
> Blessing needs must straighten too, —  
> Little canst thou joy or do,  
> Thou who lovest greatly.
> 
> Yet be blessed to the height  
> Of all good and all delight  
> Pervious to thy nature, —  
> Only loved beyond that line,  
> With a love that answers thine,  
> Loving fellow-creature !


	6. Final Image

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here is the wonderful pen and ink that I commissioned from Em (emscribbles0@gmail.com). She is the best to work with and always makes me so happy! I highly recommend her!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for reading this story! I had so much fun with it. The story I am going to start writing is a selkie! Elizabeth, which I am really excited about. It should be in this same vein.


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